The words hit her like fists. Maddie was dying?

“Maybe we can catch up later,” Heller said.

She couldn’t answer, could hear only the echo of the words not expected to make it. She remembered the last time she’d seen Maddie, the accusations she’d thrown at her. The anger and hurt and confusion that had filled her.

The wrong she’d done Maddie. And April and Eliza.

Jo felt sick. It had been years since she’d thought about that last day. She turned and almost ran back to her desk. She had to get her reports done and talk to the lieutenant. She needed time off—needed to get home. To see Maddie and apologize. To talk to her one more time. She had to get to Maraville before Maddie died—to see if she could make things right.

Dear Reader,

Sometimes teenagers do foolish things. Most of the time, the repercussions are minimal. But in Jo Hunter’s case, her one revengeful lie changed the lives of many people. It’s a guilt she’s lived with for twelve years. Now an unexpected encounter with someone she once knew sends her on the road back home. It’s a journey that has unexpected twists that Jo hadn’t expected. A second chance at making things turn out as she once had hoped they would, with family, close friends and a future bright with promise.

Come join the adventure of the last of Maddie Oglethorpe’s foster children as Jo learns that sometimes the hardest thing is to forgive oneself. The rewards, however, can be fantastic.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the stories of the three foster sisters who are reunited in a way that will bind them together for the future. Do visit my Web site, www.barbaramcmahon.com, and let me know!

Best wishes,

Barbara McMahon

Truth Be Told
Barbara McMahon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Johanna Raisanen for being an editor extraordinaire!

Thank you for all your help.

And to Sherla Cox, dear friend and onetime coauthor.

I hope you enjoy the girls from the House on Poppin Hill!

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

JO HUNTER DRESSED IN the bad-girl attire that was so familiar—black jeans, black motorcycle boots, tight black T-shirt, spiky hair and an attitude she wore like a shield. She was going to the precinct, but to protect her cover, she dressed the part. If anyone saw her, she’d bluff her way through by saying she’d been picked up. It had happened once a couple of years ago. That, of course, had made it even easier for her to infiltrate that particular drug ring. Working undercover vice was dangerous, but also exciting. Some days she wondered if she was risking death just for the adrenaline rush. Mostly, however, she was not introspective, just anxious to rid the Los Angeles streets of the vermin who preyed on the innocent.

Like the bastards she’d busted last night.

Arriving at the station early, she quickly climbed the worn stairs to the second floor, heading to the desk she shared with Jim Peterson. He worked vice, too, specializing in child porn. That was one vice she didn’t want to get involved in. Drugs was her area. Teenage pushers in the local high schools, to be specific. Jo looked far younger than her twenty-eight years and could pass for a high-school kid.

“Hey, Jo, nice going on that bust,” one of her fellow officers called out.

She waved and smiled, sitting at the computer and logging on. Jim had different hours. For the most part, sharing the desk worked. She pulled up the arrest records, scanned them, and then opened the word processing program. Jo shut out the sounds of the bullpen and concentrated on writing her report.

An hour later, her shoulders ached from sitting at the computer. Being out and about sure beat working at a desk. Stretching, she decided a cup of coffee and chocolate would revive her, so she headed for the candy machine located on the first floor. God, she hated doing reports.

A minute or two later she was studying the machine’s selection—like it had changed in the past five years.

“Jo? Jo Hunter?”

She turned, suddenly on her guard. For a minute she didn’t recognize the man. Handcuffed and being escorted by a uniformed officer, he was lanky and scruffy and obviously hadn’t shaved in a day or two. Who…? Then she recognized him.

“Heller? Josiah Heller?” For heaven’s sake, it was a guy from her hometown in Mississippi. What were the odds of her ever running into anyone from home here in L.A., much less at the station?

“Hey, Jo, looking good,” he said, tugging on the hold the officer had. “Hold up, man. I know her.”

Jo glanced at the uniformed cop, no one she recognized. Hoping her cover would hold, she assumed her persona of street tough. “I’d ask how’s it going, but it looks bad,” she said to Heller, motioning to his cuffs.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Getting something to eat. They wanted me for questioning. No charge yet. I think the good cop is showing me how fine a dude he is to let me get some candy without someone breathing down my neck—like they don’t have cameras everywhere watching my every move. I head for the door and watch the swarm.” She prayed one of her friends didn’t happen along and call out to her.

“Hey, I know what you mean.”

“What are you doing in L.A.?” Jo asked, hoping the policeman would have enough patience to allow Heller another minute or two. He was someone from home. Not a friend, not someone she would ever have looked up, but suddenly that tenuous connection seemed important.

“This and that. This is a bum rap. I’ll beat it. You ever get back home?”

Jo shook her head. She’d screwed that up royally. There was no home to return to.

“I heard about Maddie beating you,” Heller said. “Bitch. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s child abuse.”

Jo was surprised. She hadn’t known the boy Heller had been very well. They’d dated a couple of times—on her part mostly just to tick Maddie off. He’d been a big-time troublemaker back then, and it looked as if nothing had changed.

“Hear from my old lady now and then,” he said next. “Thought you might want to know—Maddie Oglethorpe had a stroke. She’s not expected to make it. Payback time.” Heller seemed to brighten at the thought.

Jo sucked in her breath. The words hit like fists. Maddie was dying?

“Let’s go,” the cop said, pulling Heller off balance enough that he had to take a step.

“Maybe we can catch up later,” Heller said, smirking as his gaze ran down the length of Jo.

She couldn’t answer, could only hear the echo of the words not expected to make it. She remembered the last time she’d seen Maddie, the accusations she’d thrown at her. The anger and hurt and confusion that had filled her.

The wrong she’d done Maddie. And April and Eliza.

Jo felt sick. It had been years since she’d thought about that last day.

She turned and almost ran back to her desk. She had to get her reports done and talk to the lieutenant. She needed time off—needed to get home. To see Maddie and apologize. To talk to her one more time. She had to get to Maraville before Maddie died to see if she could make things right.

CHAPTER ONE

JO DIDN’T ROAR INTO Maraville on her Harley. She drove a candy-apple-red convertible she’d rented at the New Orleans airport. The air blew in her short dark hair, giving the illusion of coolness until she stopped. Then the sultry Mississippi heat enveloped her, and the sun seemed to burn right through her hair to her scalp. Her skin glistened with perspiration. She was no longer used to the humidity. L.A. heated up plenty in the summer, but it was a dry heat. She’d heard that so many times she couldn’t count, but until today, she hadn’t realized how true it was. She’d been gone too long.

Driving slowly down Main Street, she looked with interest at the town she’d grown up in. After the sprawl of Los Angeles it seemed tiny and quiet. The old brick buildings looked dirty and tired. For the most part, the cars were sedans, sedate and suitable for old folks. Who traveled far in Maraville? She didn’t see the big SUVs that were so prevalent in Southern California, nor the “beater” cars gangs used, or the fancy foreign jobs seen rolling along Rodeo Drive.

People on the sidewalk stopped and stared. A stranger still drew notice in town. She resisted an urge to wave just to see what they’d do. But she wasn’t here to stir things up. She’d come to make her peace with Maddie Oglethorpe, if she wasn’t too late.

As she glided by Ruby’s Café, Jo’s mouth watered in memory. She’d spent a lot of time there eating burgers and fries. She wondered if they still tasted as good as she remembered.

As she drove away from the center of town, she caught the eye of a law-enforcement officer about to get into a car emblazoned with the sheriff’s shield. Maraville wasn’t big enough to afford a police force and so it used the same law enforcement the entire county did. The man getting into the patrol car didn’t look anything like Sheriff Halstead, the man who’d manipulated things to suit himself and the good citizens of Maraville, and shipped Jo off rather than deal with her accusations.

She should have come back sooner and set the record straight. But who would have believed her? Nothing had changed in the interim. Now it was too late. The statute of limitations had long run out even if she could get someone in authority to believe her.

The man watched her as she went by. She’d toned down a few things about her appearance for this homecoming, but the black tank top that showed her tanned, muscular arms was as out of place in summertime Maraville as her black jeans and motorcycle boots. Her hair was slightly spiked. She’d come back to make a statement, as well as apologize, she admitted. And if they didn’t like it, too bad. No one had stood up for her in this town. She was going to show them she needed no one. And if she shocked a few people, so much the better.

No one messed with Jo Hunter when she was in battle dress, and she figured she needed all the help she could get.

When her friend Tyler Jones had dropped her off at the airport in Los Angeles, he’d shaken his head and asked why she dressed like that when flying. Didn’t she know what a red flag she was waving?

Since Jo had never flown before, she hadn’t a clue how uptight the flight attendants might get. Fortunately, she took some of Tyler’s advice to heart and bought a colorful short-sleeved shirt at an airport shop to cover the black tank top. Coupled with softening her hairstyle and keeping her expression bland, she felt she more or less fit in with the other travelers.

Still, she had been wanded and her boots double-checked by security. And the flight attendants eyed her suspiciously the entire flight.

Continuing without another look at the cop, she headed for the house on Poppin Hill. If Heller’s story had been true, Maddie was most likely in the hospital, but Jo needed to see the place, to sort of ground herself. She was stalling and she knew it. But it wouldn’t hurt just to see the house before she searched for Maddie.

She almost laughed when the cop pulled in behind her—keeping far enough back not to crowd her, but definitely on her tail. How predictable. Would he follow her all the way up to the house?

She turned onto the curved, crushed-shell driveway. The old house, hidden by trees and shrubbery, couldn’t be seen from the road. She rounded the bend and the Victorian structure came into view, so out of place in Mississippi, with its antebellum architecture. If painted, it would fit in fine in San Francisco. The windows looked empty and blind. Yet flowers bloomed in garden patches, the lawn was mowed and two vehicles were parked in the driveway near the back door.

She pulled to a stop behind one of them, a white van, and killed the engine. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she realized the cop had not followed her into the driveway.

She opened her car door, stepped out and looked around. The familiar scents filled her head with memories. The sticky heat wrapped around her just as it had all those summer days so long ago. Jo was surprised by the pang she felt. One of homecoming and welcome. Stupid. There was no welcome for her here.

She heard a radio and the sound of a power saw from within the house, muffled slightly because of the closed windows. She could also hear the dull roar of the air-conditioning unit at the far corner of the house. That hadn’t been here before.

Was the house still Maddie’s? Was she in time, or had the woman already died and the estate been settled? Heller hadn’t told her much, and she had not followed up before coming as fast as she could.

Nervous at what she’d find, she stepped up onto the back porch. Wiping damp palms against her dark pants, she rapped on the door, remembering how she used to barrel into the kitchen after school, hungry for food and Maddie’s approval. She wasn’t looking for that anymore. Funny how some memories just popped into mind.

“It’s open,” a voice called.

Jo turned the knob and pushed the door.

A familiar scene assailed her. For a moment she felt like a teenager again. Eliza stood at the stove cooking. The aroma of the bubbling sauce filled Jo’s nostrils and made her mouth water. Rock music blared from a radio in the room. And now the sound of someone hammering could be heard in the background.

Just as Eliza turned, April came through the door from the hallway.

“Honestly, if I ever reach her, I’m getting her address and sending her an answering machine. This is so frustrating—” She stopped and stared at Jo. Eliza turned and stared at her, too. For a long moment all three were motionless.

“Jo?” Eliza said.

“Jo, where have you been?” April asked, rushing across the room to throw her arms around her, Eliza only two steps behind.

A lump gathered in Jo’s throat. She was home. And greeted with a welcome she didn’t deserve. Eliza and April were both here. She couldn’t believe it.

“Jo, we’ve been trying to reach you for days.”

“How did you know to come home right now?”

“How are you?”

“What have you been doing?”

“Look at you!”

Jo felt the suspicious sting of tears. She never cried.

“You look fantastic,” Eliza said, standing back to look her up and down, a wide smile on her face. “Omigosh, I can’t believe you’re here!”

“We’ve been trying to reach you for days,” April said. “Why don’t you get an answering machine?”

“I can’t believe you’re both here,” Jo said. “I thought we were scattered to the winds. If I’d known, I’d have come back sooner. I never expected to see either of you again.” Eliza and April had been Jo’s best friends for most of her growing-up years. They’d lost touch after that fateful day. Seeing them again felt as if nothing had changed.

“We were scattered to the winds. I was living in Boston until about a month and a half ago,” Eliza said.

“And I live in Paris,” April said, smiling happily. “I’ve been back a few weeks. And we finally tracked you down to L.A. Could we have been living farther apart? How did you know to come home? Instinct?”

Jo shook her head, trying to assimilate all the news. “You’ve been trying to reach me?”

“Yes, we got your phone number in L.A. At least we think it’s yours.” April rattled off the number.

Jo nodded.

“I’ve been calling for days,” April said again. “You’re here now. I can’t believe it. Come in. Let me shut the door. This heat is horrific.”

She reached behind Jo and started to close the door, then hesitated.

“Sam’s here,” she said.

Eliza looked over her shoulder. “Sam Witt? Wonder why?”

Jo turned and saw the sheriff climb out of his car.

“Probably making sure I’m not stealing the silver,” she said, watching him as he approached the back door. He was tall and nicely put together. His hair was dark, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. The uniform was immaculate, despite the heat and humidity. He looked to be in his early thirties, much younger than the former sheriff.

Jo’s two old friends looked at her, and April wrinkled her nose. “You do look like biker trash in that outfit. What’s with all the black? It’s not your best color.”

Before Jo could reply, Sam stepped up on the back porch and peered in through the screen door.

“Everything all right, ladies?” he asked.

Eliza stepped around Jo and pushed open the screen door. “Come in and meet Jo. She just showed up.”

Sam stepped inside, his expression guarded. He took off the sunglasses, and Jo was surprised at the velvet darkness of his eyes. His assessing look, however, was one she was familiar with. The good sheriff didn’t trust her. He gave her a look law enforcement the world over knew. But if the mood took her, she could give as good as she got.

Right now, Jo felt a spurt of amusement. She knew what he thought. She had left her gun at home, not wanting to have to explain it on the airplane. But she did have her badge and credentials, and courtesy demanded she tell the sheriff. An imp of mischief stilled her tongue.

“Jo Hunter, of Los Angeles?” he said.

She inclined her head.

“We had a hard time locating you.”

“She ended up coming home without us,” April said. “I never got an answer on her phone. She just showed up.”

“I heard about Maddie,” Jo said quietly. “How is she?” She held her breath, hoping she wasn’t too late.

“Me, too,” Eliza said. “That’s why I came, because of her stroke. She’s doing better. Then I found April’s number and called her. We’ve been searching for you for weeks. It’s so good to see you!” Eliza reached out and rubbed Jo’s arm. Jo remembered Eliza had always been a touchy person. No one had touched Jo in friendship in a long time.

Jo looked around the old kitchen before she got all sentimental. “Not much seems to have changed. You’re still cooking.” Then she looked at April, in a gauzy sundress that floated around her legs, and smiled. “Fancy dress for lazing around the house,” she said.

“Same old Jo—two minutes getting dressed and then you’re ready for the day,” April replied.

Jo laughed, then swung her gaze to the sheriff. “I’m not here to cause trouble, Sheriff. I heard about Maddie and came back to see her.” She turned to Eliza. “Is she really doing better?”

“Recovering more and more every day,” her friend answered. “She’ll want to see you right away. We told her we were searching. She hired a private detective to find you and April a few years ago. That’s how I located April, but the detective didn’t find you.”

“Mary Jo Hunter,” Sam murmured. “Everyone thought Jo was your only name.”

“Yeah, well, Mary is only used on official documents,” she said. It felt odd to be standing in the kitchen, talking as if they hadn’t been away for more than twelve years. She half expected Maddie to come in to ask if they didn’t have something better to do than stand around wasting time.

“Oops, better check dinner,” Eliza said, dashing back to the stove. “Bring in your suitcase, Jo, and plan to stay here. April and I are both already in residence. You won’t believe what’s going on. The house is being renovated, so it’s a mess. We’re planning a fund-raiser at the Independence Day fair for Maddie’s medical expenses. We have so much to catch up on! And after dinner, you can go see Maddie. She’s doing a lot better than when I first saw her—she’s walking with help and can sit up on her own. She can’t talk very well, though.”

“Aphasia,” April said. “Scrambled lines between her mind and her mouth. But she understands everything—at least we think she does. And she can write, after a fashion, but it takes her forever to get a sentence down. There’s hope one day she’ll fully recover.” She turned to Sam. “Can you stay for dinner?”

“Thanks, but not tonight—I’m on duty,” he said. “Is Jack coming over?”

“Of course.” April smiled at him and then at Jo. “I just got engaged!” She waved a sparkling diamond in front of Jo’s face. “To the most wonderful man in the world. When he isn’t driving me crazy, that is.”

Jo grabbed her hand and looked at the ring. The solitaire looked feminine and delicate on April’s slender finger.

“Congratulations. Anyone I know?”

“Jack Palmer, former correspondent for CNN and the department head for a new project starting next month. You’ll meet him at dinner.”

“And you’ll see Cade again,” Eliza said. “Remember him?”

“Sure. You two have a bunch of kids now?” Jo asked.

“No. Things happened. Actually, before I came home a few weeks ago, I hadn’t seen him since that day—” Eliza stopped suddenly.

Jo knew exactly what day she meant.

Into the awkward silence, Eliza waved her left hand again and announced, “But we’re getting married—as soon as Maddie’s able to attend. Sorry you can’t stay, Sam. Another night, then.”

“Count on it.” He nodded to Eliza and April and gave Jo another thoughtful look before returning to his car and leaving.

Things were not what she’d expected, Jo thought as April handed her a glass of iced tea and told her to sit at the table. She tried to grasp the various nuances. The sheriff was a friend. Of course, he was nothing like the sheriff who’d held office when she was a teenager. April lived in Paris. As in France? She’d have to get that straight. It seemed as if a time warp had happened. Eliza and Cade were getting married—about ten years later than Jo had expected. She had a lot to catch up on.

“This will simmer for a while,” Eliza said, putting the wooden spoon on a holder on the counter and turning back to Jo and April. “Let’s get your bags and find you a room. The second floor is a mess. I figure you can have that back corner bedroom. I don’t think they’ve started in there.”

“It’s pretty small,” April said.

“I don’t have to stay here,” Jo said. She felt uncomfortable. They acted as if she weren’t to blame for breaking them up. Didn’t they know? If not, she knew she’d have to explain the events that led up to their being sent to different foster homes twelve years ago. She was surprised the topic hadn’t been the first thing out of their mouths.

“Of course you’ll stay here,” April stated. “Where else would you go? Besides, Maddie will be coming home before too much longer. Think how much fun it will be to have all her girls under one roof.”

“I can’t stay that long,” Jo said quickly. They obviously didn’t know. This welcome and friendliness was all going to change when she told them what she’d done. No use setting herself up for the fall.

“Well, for however long you are in town, plan to stay here,” Eliza said. “Is your suitcase in your car?”

“Just a small one.” Enough for a couple of changes of clothes. How long could it take to apologize and make sure Maddie didn’t need anything? She probably wouldn’t want anything from Jo even if she did need something. But there were ways to get around that.

“I’ll get it,” Eliza said. “April, find some sheets that aren’t layered in dust.”

“What’s with all the construction?” Jo asked.

“This house is going to become a home for pregnant, unwed teenagers,” April said. “It’s Cade’s idea, but one Maddie was all for. And no wonder. Oh, there’s so much to tell you!”

“Wait until I get there,” Eliza warned, heading out the back door toward Jo’s car.

Five minutes later April and Jo were working together to make the single bed in the small upstairs room. It had not been used when the girls lived in the house. The windows looked over the backyard. The entire room wasn’t much bigger than a closet, but it would be fine for one short-term visitor.

“Okay, so bring me up to date,” Jo said, sitting on the newly made bed.

“You first. Whatever in the world possessed you to tell Sheriff Halstead that Maddie beat you?” Eliza asked, standing at the foot of the bed, her hands on her hips.

Jo glanced at April, who also stared at her. They did know! She hated to talk about it but knew she had to offer some explanation. She glanced at her finger.

“Remember this?” She raised the finger and showed her scar.

Eliza stepped forward and touched her finger to Jo’s. “I have a scar, too.”

“Me, too,” April said, reaching over to complete the ritual. “All for one and one for all.”

Jo heard the echo of younger voices. They’d become blood sisters that day.

“I messed up,” she said, slowly bringing down her hand.

“I’ll say,” Eliza concurred. “Why?”

“I told Maddie what happened and she didn’t believe me.” Even after all these years, Maddie’s refusal to believe her had the power to hurt. “Accused me of lying, of trying to protect one of the boys from school, of trying to—” Jo stopped. The words would resound in her mind forever. “Never mind. I need to talk to Maddie. I was punishing her by telling the authorities she’d beaten me. When I tried to tell the sheriff the truth later, he threatened to put me in jail for lying. How could I know back then that it was a bluff? I believed him.”

“We wondered why nothing beyond sending us away had happened,” April said. “Eliza had Sam look into it.”

“I say we use the fund-raiser in July to set the record straight,” Eliza said.

“What do you propose—a banner declaring Maddie innocent?” April asked.

“So she didn’t get into trouble for my lies?” Jo asked. The fear that Maddie had gone to jail or lost her home or worse had always hovered over her.

Eliza sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. “Nope. We got sent away, and that seemed to be it. And we don’t need a banner. We just need to be ready to answer questions.”

April nodded, perching on the other side of the bed. “Sam told Jack that the whole thing was badly documented. There didn’t appear to be any attempt to make an arrest. And who, even back then, would believe Maddie beat you up? You were taller, younger, athletic.”

“What really happened? Who beat you?” Eliza asked softly.

Jo looked at them, then shook her head. “Let me talk to Maddie first. Then I’ll tell you everything.”

“She’s at the hospital. We can go over now if you like,” April said, reaching over to grab a pillow and stuff it into a case. “Or after dinner, so we can stay and visit longer.”

“I need to go by myself,” Jo said.

The other two looked at each other and nodded.

“We know you didn’t stay with your next foster parents,” April said, tossing the pillow at the head of the bed and leaning back on the footboard. “What happened?”

Jo flipped open her ID case and lobbed it onto the center of the bed. The golden badge gleamed. Her photo on the identification card stared up at them.

“You’re a cop!” Eliza said, grabbing the ID and reading the card. “A Los Angeles police officer.” She burst out laughing and handed the card to April.

April grinned as she took it. “We all thought you might have been in jail somewhere, a criminal—not arresting criminals.”

“A criminal!” Jo felt offended.

Eliza nodded, her eyes brimming with laughter. “You were always getting into trouble—skipping school, hanging out with those guys who were bad news.”

“Hey, Josiah Heller is the one who told me about Maddie.” Not that his revelation was altruistic.

“Can you arrest whoever attacked you?” April asked, handing back the leather case.

“The statute of limitations has run out, and I’m not living in this jurisdiction. I’m here to apologize to Maddie, nothing more.” Though she had thought over the years how she’d like to make the man pay. Maybe something would come of her visit, but she didn’t have high hopes.

“Mending fences is a good thing, especially now that we’re all together again,” Eliza said. “You’ll have to stay for the fair.”

“And my wedding,” April said.

“What are you talking about?” Jo asked.

“Which, the fair or the wedding?” April asked.

“You told me about the fair. Are you really getting married that quickly?”

“As soon as Maddie’s able to attend. Doesn’t seem quick to me.”

“And everyone in the county shows up at the fair, making it the perfect place for you to show your support by helping out, and making sure anyone who asks knows Maddie never beat you,” Eliza said. “That’s even better than we planned. Since you gave the false information, you can set the record straight.”

“Like anyone is going to listen to me,” Jo muttered. No one had twelve years ago.

“I bet people in L.A. listen to you,” April said. “How else could you do your job?”

“They don’t know the situation.”

Eliza frowned. “Well, I’m thinking we don’t know it, either.”

Jo nodded. “Just let me talk to Maddie and I’ll tell you everything—if it’s okay with her.”

Jo leaned back on the pillow propped against the headboard and looked at the two women who’d once been closer to her than sisters. “So tell me all that’s been going on with you two,” she invited.

In the time before dinner Eliza filled Jo in on her move to Boston and becoming a chef. April regaled her with her account of becoming a model in Paris and then startled Jo when she told her she’d been married twice. But the biggest surprise was that she’d just discovered Maddie was her biological grandmother!

Jo listened, glad her friends’ lives had turned out so well. She would have felt far worse than she had if other lives had been ruined because of her. She’d always figured she deserved what she got, but Eliza and April hadn’t.

They were still talking when Cade arrived. Eliza dashed downstairs the moment she heard his voice, though Jo didn’t know how she could distinguish it from the voices of the construction workers.

“Jack’ll be here soon,” April said, rising. “Freshen up and come meet him.” Spontaneously, she reached over and hugged Jo. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

Jo watched April go, closing the door behind her. She was back in Maraville, but nothing was as she’d thought it would be.

How amazing to find both April and Eliza here. And both engaged to be married. When she’d allowed herself to think about them over the years, she’d always envisioned them married with the families they used to talk about having one day. In her case, she had no dreams of building a family. There was plenty to do on her job. The fact she’d never met a man she felt she could trust also played a big part in her decision. She’d leave romance to April and Eliza.

Jo went to the bathroom at the end of the hall. The construction crew had finally left. Dust wafted in the air. She peeked in the door of the room Eliza had always had and saw a new connecting bath between her room and the room she herself used to use.

She moved to the door of her old room and went in. Surprised to see everything almost as she’d left it except for the new door to the connecting bath, she studied the posters and announcements on the old bulletin board. Together they captured moments of time in a teenage girl’s life.

At last she pushed away and went to freshen up. She wasn’t that same girl. Time had moved along and so had she. After seeing Maddie, she’d have to decide if she would stay for Independence Day. Small towns had long memories. Jo knew she didn’t want to be the focus of gossip and speculation for days on end. Yet…she owed Maddie. It would be little enough to endure if the record were set straight.

Where was Allen McLennon these days? He and Maddie had been dating for several months before Jo’s attack. Maddie had believed Allen, not Jo. Was he still lording it over people? Wouldn’t the town be shocked to learn the truth about the lofty town banker?

When she entered the kitchen a short time later, Eliza was dishing up some delectable sauce and spreading it over pasta. April poured iced tea into tall glasses. Cade Bennett was setting the table. He looked older, of course, and had filled out nicely. There was another man Jo didn’t recognize, undoubtedly April’s fiancé.

“Here she is,” April said, spotting her. “Come and meet Jack.”

Introductions were made. Cade greeted her, and before long all were seated at the old table enjoying Eliza’s cooking.

Jo felt odd sitting with the two couples. Eliza and April bubbled with excitement at her arrival. Cade seemed as easygoing as always. Jack Palmer, on the other hand, studied her as if he didn’t trust her. No biggie. She was used to going it alone. And she did not begrudge Eliza or April their happiness. She just felt like a fifth wheel.

“Seen Maddie yet?” Cade asked.

“Going after dinner,” she said. “She’s still at the hospital, April said.”

Cade nodded. “Want a lift?”

“Thought I’d walk.”

“We’ve been doing a lot of that lately,” Eliza said. “It’s nice to be able to walk so many places without needing a car.”

“Be strange for an Angeleno, I expect,” Jack said.

“Right. I always drive everywhere. Usually on my Harley.”

Jack’s eyebrows rose.

“Motorcycle?” Cade asked with a grin. “Do you really have a Harley?”

She nodded. “Traffic is a bitch, so I have a bike. I can weave through the stopped cars to get to where I’m going faster.”

“Dangerous,” Eliza murmured.

Jo shrugged. “So far so good.” She was a careful driver, but liked the mobility the bike gave compared to cars in the L.A. freeway traffic. When she’d first bought the bike, it was used, and the only thing she could afford. But she didn’t need to share that—not with Jack looking like he wanted to dissect her every word.

“Tell me about Paris,” she said, hoping to turn the attention away from herself. She felt uncomfortable with everyone watching. April took the bait and Jo began to relax as she listened to her friend talk about her career, her apartment on the Left Bank, and the fun of visiting European capitals on someone else’s tab.

Dinner ended with strawberry shortcake eaten on the porch. The evening stayed light late at the end of June, and the citronella candles kept the mosquitoes at bay. Jo felt suddenly very grown-up, sitting on the porch as Maddie and some of her ladies’ club friends had done. Talking with other grown-ups. What would life have been like if that night had never happened? Once again she regretted not handling things differently. But it always got back to Maddie’s not believing her, then her anger, and her fear.

Time ticked by. Jo finished her coffee and put the cup down with a click. Conversation stopped and everyone looked at her.

“Guess I’ll be heading for the hospital.” She felt like she was heading for an execution. But she couldn’t put it off any longer.

“She’s on the second floor,” Eliza said. “She’s going to be so happy to see you.”

Jo doubted that. But this was something she needed to do. To make amends if she could, to apologize at the very least.

She headed out, enjoying the evening air. It felt strange to be walking. Even stranger to see so few cars on the road. Where she lived in L.A., she couldn’t even get to the store without driving through heavy traffic.

Jo turned onto Main Street. It looked the same, except for a few changes in storefronts. Ruby’s Café was bustling with teenagers and a handful of older folks. She’d have to stop in and have a burger before she left Maraville.

The video store was open, customers wandering through the rows of movies. Most of the other stores had closed at six. She wondered if there were any all-night places in town, then had to remind herself this was Maraville, not L.A.

Moments later Jo approached the hospital. The parking lot was less than half full, the emergency entrance quiet. The brick building was small compared to the hospitals she frequently visited in the line of duty. This one had been built to serve the county and was rarely used to capacity.

She reached the wide double doors and stopped. Beyond the threshold she could see the brightly lit lobby, with a woman at an information desk. A couple sat near the elevators as if waiting for someone. A man passed her and held the door.

She took a breath and shook her head. She wasn’t ready.

She had come from California for this express purpose, and yet she couldn’t make herself walk inside.

Jo wasn’t sure how long she stood outside the doors before turning and retracing her steps. She would have to come back tomorrow. Tonight was impossible.

When she reached the town square, she found an empty bench and sat. In the playground area of the nearby park, children laughed and shrieked as they slid down the slide or were pushed higher and higher on the swings by indulgent parents. A woman walked her dog on the far side. The scene was…peaceful. Unlike her neighborhood in L.A.

Jo had a thousand memories of Maraville. Many good. She should focus on those. It had been a quiet, sleepy, Southern town. Nothing inherently bad. All places had bad people living in them. She couldn’t condemn an entire town because of one man.

“Taking a walk down memory lane?” a familiar voice asked.

She looked up and to her left. Sam Witt stood there. She hadn’t noticed his arrival.

“Sort of.”

He sat on the bench beside her. “Nice time of day,” he said, taking off his hat and putting it on the bench between them.

“Mmm.” She wasn’t up to small talk with the sheriff. Her own badge was burning a hole in her back pocket. She should give him the courtesy of identifying herself. But right now to do anything seemed too much effort.

“Been to see Maddie?” he guessed.

“Went there, didn’t go in,” she confessed.

“Tough visiting someone sick,” he said.

“I screwed up. I need to apologize.” She could never make up for the damage her accusation caused. Was it that thought that kept her from going in tonight? Or fear of the repudiation she expected from Maddie?

She hated knowing she was just plain scared.

“I looked into your file, you know,” he said. “Sloppy piece of police work. There was never a resolution to the crime. No charges were filed, no suspicions even noted.”

“I’m sure there weren’t. Sheriff Halstead didn’t believe me.”

“He didn’t even report the person you accused,” Sam said.

Jo knew he was fishing. Maybe it was too late to do anything about the crime against her, but she hated that the man had gotten away with it. What could she do to let people know the truth? Had he tried to rape other young girls since she’d left? The thought made her shudder. Yet when she’d told the law, nothing had been done.

She needed to talk to Maddie first, then she’d open up to Sam Witt. A sheriff ought to know what was going on in his jurisdiction.

SAM LEANED BACK ON the bench, wondering why he was trying to make conversation with a woman who obviously didn’t want to talk. His effort wasn’t all about trying to learn what really happened twelve years ago. He sensed an aloneness in her that was at odds with her attitude. He chastised himself. So now he was playing Dudley Do-Right? Trying to make everything okay for this stranger? Patty would say it was like him.

The thought of his wife brought the familiar ache into focus. Three years and he still missed her.

“Seem odd to be back?” he asked, refocusing on the situation at hand.

She nodded, not looking at him, her gaze on the children in the park.

“Staying long?” Getting her to talk was worse than interrogating hardened criminals.

She turned and looked at him. “I’m here for as long as I want to be. You have a problem with that?”

He recognized the cocky attitude as a cover-up. Touchy. “Not as long as you don’t cause any problems.”

She reached in her back pocket and pulled out a leather wallet, flipping it open with practiced ease.

The gleam of the gold badge caught his eye. He took the wallet and read the identification card. Jo was a detective with the LAPD. That did surprise him. He tossed it back to her and studied her for a moment.

Just to yank her chain, he said, “Still, don’t be causing trouble in my town.”

CHAPTER TWO

“YOUR TOWN?” JO SAID, replacing the wallet.

“Adopted town.”

“Where are you from originally?”

“New Orleans before here. Born in Baton Rouge.”

“Quite a change of venue,” she said.

“I worked in the Big Easy PD a number of years.”

“Been here long?” she asked.

“A little over two years now.”

“And compared to New Orleans, this is satisfying?” she asked.

“It suits me. I worked the narcotics detail. It’s a never-ending battle.”

“But it’s a battle that has to be fought. I’m in drugs myself.”

Sam knew what she meant. It even made sense, remembering the dossier he’d read on Jo Hunter. Her mother was an addict. Kids often became crusaders against drugs—if they didn’t start using themselves.

“If you’re not going to the hospital, I’ll give you a ride home,” he said a few moments later. She seemed at a loss and Sam’s instincts rose. Part of the job of a cop was to help people, not only to catch criminals. He wanted to help this young woman, even though she probably didn’t feel she needed help. The attitude of hers would only cover so much.

She slanted him a glance. “Won’t that look great, first night home and already riding in a cop car.” He caught the hint of amusement.

“I’ll turn on the siren if you like,” he said.

She laughed at that and his breath hitched. She was lovely when she wasn’t trying to look and act like a street punk.

“Are you in disguise?” he asked.

“Undercover detail. I infiltrate high schools. Classy, huh?” she asked in self-mockery.

“You look young enough for it. Any luck?”

“Oh, yeah. More than I want. Several busts in the past couple of years. So three high schools and a junior high are safe for a little while. Until the next slimeball starts up trafficking. It’s a never-ending war, but one I’m willing to wage forever to rid the world of such bastards.”

“I felt that way.”

“Burned out?” she guessed.

Sam shrugged. Partially that, of course. But Patty’s death had been the final straw. He’d tried hard to make the world a better place, and lost his wife along the way. If he’d listened to her, they would have moved to a place like Maraville long ago, established comfortable lives, and Patty wouldn’t have been on that road the night the drunk careered into her.

“I’ll take you up on that ride, then screw up my courage to see Maddie in the morning.”

He rose. “Sounds like a plan.”

She stood beside him, coming to his chin. She was slender, almost boyish in figure. But strong-looking. Her bare arms were toned and tanned, probably from spending time at the beach in Southern California. He wondered what her hair looked like when it wasn’t spiked. Shorter than he liked on a woman.

He shook off the thought. He wasn’t interested in Jo Hunter as a woman. Was he?

She climbed into the passenger’s side of the car while Sam got behind the wheel.

“Was Jack over to dinner tonight?” he asked.

“Yes. He and Cade both. I felt the odd man out.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling. Eliza’s a great cook, and she’s always asking me over, but then it’s always the two couples and me.”

“Well, if I’m here next time you’re invited, you know you won’t be the only odd man out.”

“Staying long?” he asked again. She wasn’t coming on to him, was she?

“I wasn’t sure how Maddie was. I thought she was at death’s door. So I planned a flying visit to say I’m sorry. Now they want me to stay for the fund-raiser and to tell anyone who asks that Maddie never beat me. Then for April’s wedding. Sheesh, I could end up staying more than two weeks.”

“If you’re saying Maddie didn’t do it, who did?” Sam asked.

Jo wasn’t surprised at the question. He’d want to know. Everyone else would, too. Not that they’d likely believe her. Maddie hadn’t twelve years ago, and she knew Jo better than anyone.

“I have no problem telling everyone. But I want to talk with Maddie first. I wish the authorities had believed me twelve years ago. The bastard got away with criminal assault and I’m the one who got the shaft.”

“From what I can tell about my predecessor, he had trouble finding the office every day. Not a sterling example of law enforcement. But you can set the record straight with a name.”

She laughed softly. Sam liked hearing it.

The trip to the house on Poppin Hill ended too soon. One place wasn’t far from any other in Maraville. He stopped near the front porch, still occupied by April and Jack.

“Come up for a minute,” Jo invited.

“I’ll see if Jack wants a ride home. He’s staying with me, you know.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“We go way back. When he was injured by a land mine a few months ago, in the Middle East, he came here to convalesce. Said his folks were driving him crazy.”

“Funny how a Parisian model and a world-class journalist met in Maraville, Mississippi,” Jo said. “I wondered how he got that limp.”

“Just goes to show if something is meant to be, it will be.” He tried to tell himself that whenever he thought about Patty’s death. It didn’t make things easier, but he kept hoping one day it would.

“Thanks for the lift.”

“Anytime, Detective.”

She nodded and got out of the car.

Sam stepped out and leaned on the door. “Jack, want a lift?”

“Sure. Give me a few.”

Sam watched Jo pass the couple on the porch and go into the house. He climbed back in the car and waited, trying not to watch as his friend kissed his fiancée. He remembered kissing Patty, the long, slow, hot kisses that inevitably led to making love. He envied Jack that pleasure. Patty had been dead for three years, but sometimes it felt as if she’d just stepped out of the room. Other times, he could hardly remember being married, being in love. Until the pain hit.

God, he missed his wife.

“RISE AND SHINE,” April said, coming into Jo’s room the next morning early with a steaming cup of coffee.

“Is there a fire?” Jo grumbled, and rolled over, pulling the pillow over her head.

“No, but the construction crew arrives at seven and it’s chaos after that. Sometimes there’s no water all day, so if you want a shower, you’d best get up now. Here. Take the coffee. It’ll help.”

Jo didn’t want to get up. She liked the dream she was having. But it was too late, it was gone. Just as well; she didn’t think she should be fantasizing about a man she’d just met. It probably was because of all the engaged couples she was hanging around. She sat up, leaning against the headboard. “Thanks,” she said, reaching for the coffee cup.

April sat in the chair already dressed in another floaty sundress. Makeup on, hair just so, she looked prettier than anyone else Jo knew.

“I like your clothes,” Jo said with a smile. “I guess you’re as clothes crazy as ever. Maybe more so now, given your work.”

April nodded. “And in Paris I get to see everything when it’s first designed. But my days are numbered. I’m thinking of other things I could be doing.”

“Like what?”

“We didn’t go into a lot of detail about the home Cade’s establishing last night, but one of the things we’re thinking of offering is classes for the residents, such as cooking, meal planning and fashion hints. I might find I’m back here sooner than I expect.”

“I assume Eliza is doing the cooking bit,” Jo said.

“It looks like she and Cade will settle here in Maraville. His construction company can be run from here, with him going into New Orleans when needed. Plus, there’s more and more growth in this direction. I’m sure he’ll get plenty of work. She wants to be near Maddie.”

“And you?”

“If you’d asked me a month ago, I’d have said Maraville was the last place I’d want to visit, much less live. But now I’m back, it’s kind of growing on me. My job and Jack’s prevent us from settling here when we’re married, but we’ve already discussed visiting often, and finally ending up living here when circumstances permit.”

“I’m surprised,” Jo said. And a bit nostalgic and envious, she didn’t add. She and Eliza and April had always done things together when they lived here. Now it seemed as if the other two had picked right up where they left off. Jo felt left out.

It was her own fault, she knew. But that didn’t make it any easier.

“Get up and come help me plan the logistics of the fund-raiser. We have a fashion show planned. Jack has a couple of New Orleans Saints football players coming, which has lots of people excited, why I don’t know.”

Jo laughed. April was such a girlie girl. “I’ll be right down.”

April headed for the door, turning to say, “Please don’t wear black. It’s depressing.”

“It’s all I have.”

April rolled her eyes. “We have to go shopping.”

Jo remembered how much April loved to shop. “Later. I still have to see Maddie.”

“You didn’t see her last night? I meant to ask you when you got home how things had gone, but Jack was still here and—”

“I didn’t make it in,” Jo said.

“Ran into Sam first, I bet,” April said. “He’s the one who found your phone number for us. And helped a bit when I was looking for my birth parents. I like him.”

“You still haven’t told me all the details about learning Maddie’s your grandmother and how exactly you found out,” Jo said.

“We have time. See you downstairs soon. Those workmen are prompt.”

ELIZA HAD BREAKFAST ready when Jo arrived in the kitchen.

“Sit, eat,” she said, dishing up eggs, grits and bacon.

“I’ve gained five pounds since I’ve been here,” April said, pouring another cup of coffee. “But I never say no.”

“When we finish, we’ll all go see Maddie,” Eliza said firmly, pulling out a chair and sitting with her own plate.

“I can go on my own,” Jo said.

“Maybe, but you’re not,” she said. “We’ve decided.”

“Bossy.”

Eliza grinned. “You better believe it. But after that, you’re April’s slave for the day. She has to figure out where she wants everything so Cade’s crew can build the runway for the models.”

“And,” April added, “we also need a changing area and makeup area, and then the chairs and all for the paying customers.”

“We have a huge awning ordered that we’ll use to keep the sun off the models,” Eliza said. “It’s going to be a big undertaking. Cops are good for crowd control, so you can make yourself useful.”

Jo swallowed hard. “It’s good to be back,” she said.

BY NINE, THEY HAD cleaned up the kitchen. April insisted Jo drive them so she could ride through town in a flashy convertible. Eliza then insisted on sitting in the front, to allow April royal status in the back.

When they set off down the driveway, Eliza turned back to April. “Aren’t you going to wave like the queen does?”

“Brat.” April sat tall, looking around regally, and all three burst out laughing.

Jo hoped the fun in the car masked her case of nerves. She wasn’t going to get out of seeing her foster mother this morning. Would it be better with the others? Practicing what she planned to say, she tried to calm down. But nothing worked.

The trip was too short. They entered the hospital and went right to the elevators. Eliza and April explained that one or both of them came to see Maddie each day. They commented on her progress and prognosis.

“Full recovery, that’s what we’re counting on,” Eliza said.

“It’ll help when she can speak again,” April said. “Sometimes I can understand a word or two, but mostly it’s garbled. Frustrating for her and for us.”

Jo nodded, trying to remember all they’d told her about Maddie.

But the reality proved a shock. The frail woman sitting in a chair near the window barely resembled the foster mother she remembered.

“Hi, Maddie,” April said, walking over to give her a kiss and hug. “Look who we’ve brought!”

Eliza gave her a quick hug, then stepped back. Jo stared at the woman who had done her best to “raise her right.” The woman who’d been there when her own mother had abandoned her responsibilities and left Jo to flounder.

The woman she’d betrayed.

Her throat felt closed. She couldn’t take her eyes off Maddie. She saw every nuance of expression when Maddie realized who stood there. Shock and dismay. Then the struggle to say one word.

“Jo.”

Jo’s heart dropped.

“Hello, Maddie.” The words stuck. She knew what she wanted to say, but just couldn’t.

April and Eliza stared at her, puzzled. She knew she must look like a fool, but her feet seemed rooted to the floor. Suddenly she wished she’d worn blue or pink, though she hadn’t worn either color in more years than she could remember. Black was for widows and old ladies, she remembered Maddie saying. The woman had obviously never been to New York or Los Angeles.

Stupid thing to think about when so much was at stake.

“We didn’t even have to track her down. She heard you were sick and came right away, just like Eliza and I did,” April said.

Maddie hadn’t moved her gaze from Jo. She tried to speak, but as the others had said, only garbled sounds came out after that initial word. Jo could see Maddie was frustrated at her limitations. She obviously wanted to tell her something in the worst way. Jo could just imagine what.

“I won’t stay. My being here’s upsetting you,” Jo said. “I came to tell you I’m sorry for what happened. I never meant to have us all end up scattered. I never meant to get you into trouble. I’m so sorry.”

Maddie tried to say something else, then shook her head.

Jo only gave a half smile and turned to leave.

“Jo!” Eliza called after her.

She didn’t want to hang around. She’d done what she’d come for, not as smoothly as she’d hoped, not as healing, but it was the best she could do. She headed for the elevator. Luck was with her: it was discharging passengers as she reached it. She slipped inside and punched the button for the lobby.

Walking outside a moment later, she stopped. The heat of the day was rapidly building. She felt the sharp contrast to the hospital’s air-conditioning, but now she relished the heat on her skin. She felt chilled inside.

Dispassionately she reviewed the scene, disappointed she didn’t feel better. Somehow she’d thought if she apologized, the guilt of what she’d done would lift. It hadn’t. Of course a hasty sorry and abrupt leave-taking wasn’t quite what she’d pictured, either.

She considered going back, but couldn’t face Maddie. She wouldn’t blame the woman if she never wanted to see her again. And that hurt. Far more than Jo expected. She yearned for the relationship she’d seen between April and Eliza and Maddie. Comfortable with one another. Loving.

Heading for her car, Jo had to decide what to do next. Usually she had every bit of her life laid out—she needed to have plans and backups for the undercover work she did. But now she’d accomplished what she’d set out to do. Feeling deflated and unfulfilled, she wasn’t sure what to do next. She wished she hadn’t agreed to stay for the next few days. Heading back to Los Angeles seemed a brilliant idea right now.

She climbed into the bright red convertible, started the engine and peeled out of the parking lot. She headed out of town, going faster than was safe, as if she could outrun her demons. She hadn’t gotten five miles before she heard the wail of a siren. Looking in the rearview mirror, she saw the flashing lights of a police car. Great, just what she didn’t need!

She checked her speedometer and discovered she was going way over the limit. She hit the brakes and slowly, gradually, pulled to the side of the road, resigned to get a ticket and probably a lecture from the deputy. She could imagine the hoots and hollers of her friends at the department if they ever heard about it. Some of them routinely had tickets, speed acting as an adrenaline release. But she’d never had one before.

She looked in her side mirror as the man got out of the vehicle, lights still flashing. Jo almost groaned when she recognized Sam Witt. He placed his hat on his head, hefted the ticket book and walked to the side of her car.

“Do things a bit differently in California?” he asked when he drew even with her.

“No.”

“Speeding is against the law.”

“So write me a ticket.”

He held out his hand for her license. Jo knew the drill, although she had only worked traffic for six months some years back. She held it out for him to take, then reached over to the glove compartment to withdraw her rental papers. She handed them over, as well, looking straight ahead, fuming. Not at Sam—he was just doing his job.

She was mad at herself. She should never have expected things to change just because she offered an apology. Maddie couldn’t even talk. Did she remember all the hateful words Jo had flung that long-ago day? Why had she thought an apology would fix anything?

SAM STUDIED HER LICENSE. The face on the laminated card was unsmiling. He glanced at her.

Jo gripped the steering wheel so tightly her fingers were white. Staring straight ahead, she didn’t move when he returned her paperwork. He was surprised she didn’t try to talk herself out of a ticket. Usually when caught speeding, cops tried to appeal to the brotherhood of the badge and get out of getting written up. Not Jo.

Sam almost wrote her up, but something held him back. Instead, the rigid way she held herself alerted him something was wrong.

He looked down the highway. It headed north, nothing on it for about forty miles.

“Out seeing the sights?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’m just driving.”

“When you take off from here, are you going to keep the speed below the limit posted?” he asked, wishing she’d open up a little.

She nodded. Sighing softly, she looked at him wryly. “I’ll return to town. Driving isn’t going to solve my problem.”

“And what is that problem?”

“Nothing that can be fixed,” she said. “Give me the ticket and I promise not to be caught speeding in your jurisdiction again.”

“Caught speeding? Or won’t speed again, period?”

“Whatever. I’m heading out soon.”

“I thought you were going to help in the Independence Day fund-raiser for Maddie Oglethorpe,” he said. “And I know all about the wedding—I’m Jack’s best man.”

She eyed the ticket pad, then looked at him.

“I’ll give a donation and send the happy couple a gift.”

“Your presence is what Eliza and April want.”

“Yeah, like that’s going to help anything.”

He tapped the closed ticket book against the edge of the car. “Take it easy, Jo. I’m giving you a warning. Don’t speed in my county.”

“That’s it, no ticket?”

“Call it professional courtesy to a fellow officer.”

“One who should know better,” she muttered. He could tell she was embarrassed and angry.

“What are you doing working traffic, anyway?” she said when he stepped back to let her go on her way.

“I’m not. I’m on my way to take a report of a break-in at a farm just up ahead. Saw you taking off like a bat out of hell so I stopped you.”

“I was upset, which is a stupid time to be driving.”

“Right. Not upset now?”

She squinted up against the glare of the sun. “I’m still angry, but I’ll control my driving.”

He touched the edge of his hat and turned to head back to the patrol vehicle.

“Hey, Sheriff,” she called, leaning out of the window.

He turned.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

He nodded, wondering again what it was about her that intrigued him. She wasn’t his usual type, if indeed he even had one. He liked small, blond women who loved to cook and had the flesh on their bones to prove it. Like Patty. Not that he was interested in Jo in a personal way. He still loved his wife and couldn’t imagine moving on and opening himself up to a potential loss again. Still, if he never saw Jo Hunter again, he thought he’d miss something.

He continued to the patrol car and got in. Jo took off, driving just under the speed limit. He smiled. That speed would probably last only as long as she stayed in sight.

He had work to do. Pulling away from the side of the road, he soon passed her. She waved but did not increase her speed.

HER SPEEDING WAS STUPID, Jo thought as she watched Sam’s car disappear into the distance. She knew better than most that excessive speed was the cause of most road accidents; she’d cleared her share of bodies from automobile crashes.

On impulse, she checked to make sure there was no traffic, then made a U-turn in the middle of the highway. Heading back to town, she made up her mind. She would stay around and help out at the Independence Day picnic. She owed it to Maddie. And she wanted to visit with Eliza and April just a little longer. She’d missed them so much over the years.

If April still wanted her for the wedding, she’d stay for that, as well. Any hardships, she’d view as penance for her sins.

When she turned into the driveway, she remembered abandoning Eliza and April at the hospital. Eliza’s van was gone now. Obviously they’d found a ride home or walked. Eliza had told Jo about starting a catering business in Maraville. She sounded as if she had the credentials to work anyplace she wanted. Jo couldn’t believe she’d chosen Maraville. Some things still had the power to surprise her.

The sound of construction filled the air. She saw that some of the windows were open, letting out the cool air and the sound. It would be another week or two before the crew finished.

Then the house was scheduled to be approved as a home for unwed, pregnant teens who had nowhere else to turn.

She slowly climbed the three shallow steps to the porch, the din in the house uninviting. Where was April? Had she come home with Eliza or gone off to see Jack? For the first time since leaving Maraville all those years ago, Jo wished she had someone special herself. Someone she could talk to about how she felt. Someone whose advice she could seek to help her decide what to do next. Someone who would accept her just as she was and like her.

A few minutes later, determining April wasn’t around, Jo was at loose ends. She headed back to town. Might as well while away the time walking around and reacquainting herself with Maraville. Maybe she’d run into an old school friend or two.

She cut over to the high school. The building was smaller than she remembered. The yard stood empty, only a single car in the parking lot. No one hung around during summer break, not even the teachers.

Continuing her walk, Jo soon came to the main street of town. Ahead on the right was the bank. Acting on impulse, she entered the old building. The columns supporting the ceiling were made of marble, as was the floor. She found the old-fashioned ornate fretwork on the ceiling reassuring. At least they hadn’t torn down the old building to make way for progress.

The object of her interest was not in view. Maybe he no longer worked here. It had been twelve years. Who knew what happened to people in that time? Maybe he’d attacked someone else who had been believed and he’d been arrested and sent to prison.

She walked around, unaware at first of the interest she was causing. When she caught the eye of the guard, she knew her attire set off internal alarms. Maybe April had been right, and all black attire with motorcycle boots was a mistake. Or was it the spiky hair?

She turned to leave when she heard the hated voice. Heading for the door, she glanced over her shoulder. Allen McLennon was escorting an elderly woman from an office. He spoke again. Jo couldn’t hear the words, only the smarmy tone of his voice.

Her stomach lurched. Her heart pounded. The man she’d hated for twelve years was only a yard away. What would happen if he saw her? Would he recognize her, or be more concerned about her less-than-conservative appearance? She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He looked older. Had put on a few pounds. But he still looked fit and strong. Strong enough to beat a teenager who fought off his attempts at seduction, or worse.

“Can I help you?” The guard had come up beside Jo without her being aware. Such inattention in her normal life could get her killed.

She looked at him and shook her head. “I’m just leaving.”

He didn’t say anything more, but watched her until she was out of the door. Once on the sidewalk, Jo took a deep breath.

“Casing the joint?” Sam Witt asked.

She jumped and turned to see the sheriff standing behind her. How had she missed him when she left the bank? Gee, at this rate, she had better retire, or return to traffic detail.

“I thought you were headed off to do some incident report,” she said.

“It’s done. Didn’t take long. What are you up to now?”

“Nothing.” She glanced back at the bank, almost tempted to go back in and confront Allen McLennon.

“Come with me,” Sam said, taking her arm gently. He led her across the street to Ruby’s Café. “Coffee.”

Jo went along, not putting up a fuss like she normally might have. Maybe she wanted to hear what the local sheriff had to say. Or was she in for another lecture?

Ruby’s was almost empty so late in the morning. In a short time the lunch crowd would start arriving, but for now, they practically had the place to themselves.

Sam steered her to a booth near a window and sat opposite her. A waitress hurried over, coffeepot in hand.

“Anything to eat, Sheriff?” the woman asked as she poured.

“Just coffee for me.” Sam looked at Jo. “What will you have?”

“The same.”

The waitress bustled off.

Jo added cream and stirred, then met Sam’s gaze defiantly. “Allen McLennon is the man who tried to rape me and then beat me silly when I was sixteen. I told Maddie. She didn’t believe me, so in retaliation when I was questioned at the hospital, I said she’d beaten me. I was so angry and hurt. I didn’t know what an uproar that would cause. Then that damned sheriff wouldn’t believe me when I told him the truth. Was that in the report?”

Sam looked taken aback. Maybe she should have led up to the revelation, but she felt anger boil up again after seeing that man at the bank living a life no rapist and child beater should live. Her worst fear resurfaced. Had she been the only one? The sheriff and Maddie had both been told the truth. If neither acted on it, was Jo responsible for any further violent acts the man may have committed over the years? The thought bothered her. She should have come back at eighteen and made a stink. Or after graduating from the police academy. Or any time over the last decade.

“Serious accusations,” Sam said.

“The truth, take it or leave it,” she replied. Jo held her breath. She wanted someone to believe her. But the world wouldn’t end if he didn’t. She’d had years of living with others not believing the truth.

Sam sat back and studied her thoughtfully. “And what do you propose to do about it now?”

She shrugged. No overwhelming vote of confidence from the sheriff. “What can I do? The statute of limitations has run out. If he never bothered anyone else, no other charges would have been made. He gets off scot-free.” She paused. “Then again, maybe I should take out a full-page ad in the local paper and let the good folks of Maraville know what a son of a bitch they have as banker.”

“He’s a respected member of the community. Your coming in here and throwing accusations around—”

“Might damage his precious reputation? Who cares? Not me.” Surprisingly, she was disappointed Sam didn’t believe her.

“Might not be believed,” he said.

“So let him sue me for libel.”

“And he’d likely win. What can you do to prove it? It’s his word against yours, and I’m here to tell you the record of the investigation never once mentions his name.”

Jo stared at Sam for a moment, thinking the implications through. “The sheriff was in his pocket. Damned bastard.” She lapsed into silence. There was nothing she could do—except watch the man to see if he’d changed or was still coming on to young girls. But how such behavior could be hidden in such a small town for any length of time was beyond her. Maybe he had just had the hots for the teenager she’d once been, tried to get it on with her, and when he failed, snapped.

She remembered how angry Maddie had been, convinced that Jo was trying to cover up for Heller and put a spoke into Maddie’s romance with the banker at the same time. She’d refused to listen to Jo, turning her over to the sheriff for interrogation and investigation, convinced the sheriff would find the boy who’d done that awful deed.

“If I make a formal complaint, you have to investigate,” she said. “Maybe I don’t want to tip my hand just yet.”

“I can be discreet, you know. I’ll make some quiet inquiries—if there’s anything to go on,” Sam offered reluctantly. “What can you tell me about the event?”

“I can tell you about every horrible moment.”

“Come to the office later and give a statement.”

“And you’ll investigate?”

“I’m making no guarantees. Allen McLennon is the president of the town’s bank. I’ve known him for the two years I’ve lived in Maraville. He’s never had a breath of scandal attached to his name.”

“In other words, screw off, Jo,” she said bitterly.

“I’m a firm proponent of the truth,” Sam said. “But not in revenge.”

“Revenge?”

“You’ve talked to Eliza and April. You must know McLennon tried to foreclose on the house when Maddie was first in the hospital. They were angry as hell about it. Leads to all sorts of speculation, you know?”

“And you think I’m making this up now to get back at him?” Jo was incredulous. She hadn’t known about the attempted foreclosure.

“I said I’d look into it. You stay away from the case and the man you’re accusing.”

“I don’t report to you,” she said.

Jo stood and fished out a couple of dollars, tossing them on the table. Maybe there was some investigative work she could do.

Sam’s jaw tightened as he glared at her. “Running away?”

“Regrouping. I’ll find a way to hang the SOB.” She turned to leave.

“I asked you for coffee, so take your money,” he called after her.

Jo hesitated, then charged forward. He had not asked her to have coffee. He’d marched her into Ruby’s as if he were the Gestapo or something. Jo always paid her own way. Ever since she’d left the foster care in Meridian she’d vowed never to be beholden to anyone again.

She halfway expected Sam to come storming after her. But she reached the sidewalk alone. She turned and headed back for the house, plenty of thoughts crowding her mind. Her quiet walk around town had changed things. Somehow there had to be a way to bring McLennon down. And she was going to prove to Maddie and everyone that these days Jo Hunter could be counted on to tell the truth.

CHAPTER THREE

JO WALKED BACK INTO the old house on Poppin Hill, heading to the kitchen, wishing Eliza were there making something good to eat. She made herself a sandwich, poured iced tea into a glass, then went to sit on the front porch in the muggy heat. How anyone stood the racket the construction workers made was beyond her. Probably why both Eliza and April weren’t here. Eating slowly, she tried to sort through her emotions.

As a teenager, she’d been full of anger when no one believed her about the man who’d attacked her. She’d spent long hours fantasizing about revenge—against Maddie, against the sheriff, even the social services worker who had taken her from her home. How the truth would come out and everyone in town would beg her to come back to live there. And she’d spurn them. Those daydreams had helped her heal and given her the impetus to go into law enforcement. She never wanted to be a victim again.

She was a survivor. She had the battle scars to prove it.

But the reality was different from fantasy. Sam was right. No one would believe her without proof. McLennon had had years to polish his image. Anyone who remembered her would recall a trouble-making teenager who’d turned on her foster mother. The perpetrator was living life high on the hog, and no one really wanted her back in Maraville. Maybe Eliza and April, but they both had new directions in life.

She was feeling sorry for herself.

Muttering an expletive, Jo finished the last of her iced tea and took the plate and glass back inside. She was not going to have a private pity party. There were things she could do to find the facts to support her claim. If not, her belief in justice would be sorely tried. Taking a deep breath, she tried to rationalize her plans. The first step was asking for an official investigation.

Fifteen minutes later Jo walked into the sheriff’s department. The dispatcher pointed her in the direction of Sam’s office. When she arrived, she recognized his secretary.

“Marjorie?” Jo said.

“Jo Hunter! I heard they were trying to find you. No one told me they did and that you were back already.” She jumped up and came around to give Jo a hug. Jo awkwardly returned it. Had she forgotten how touchy-feely people were in the South?

“Goodness, April and I are on the phone all the time,” Marjorie said in a rush. “She didn’t tell me!”

“I just got here yesterday. She’ll be calling, I’m sure.” Jo glanced around. The place hadn’t changed much from the day old Sheriff Halstead had brought her in and listened to her account of the incident. Dismissing every word as a lie.

“Sam in?” she asked. If he were, would he see her? Take her statement and really read it?

“Sure is. He’s on the phone but should be finished soon. Have a seat. Where have you been all these years and what have you been doing?”

“I live in L.A.,” Jo said, sitting gingerly on the edge of one of the visitor chairs.

“Hollywood?” Marjorie sat beside Jo. “Do you get to see movie stars all the time?”

Jo shook her head. “Sometimes I see one or two, but I’m not on that detail.”

“You’re a cop?” Marjorie guessed.

“Yup. Detective.” Jo said it with pride. She’d fought long and hard to get where she was, and she was damned proud of it.

“Isn’t that a kick? I bet Maddie’s as proud as a peacock about that. She must be so happy to have all her chicks back. We’re all pulling for her recovery, you know.”

“Thank you.” Jo was taken aback that Marjorie seemed to discount entirely the cloud under which she’d left.

“You here to talk about that night twelve years ago?” Marjorie asked, voice lowered.

“The sheriff said earlier I could come in and make a statement.”

“There wasn’t anything in the file,” Marjorie said, voice still low.

“You think Sam will let me look at the records?”

“Why, sure he will. He gave a copy to that Jack Palmer when he and April were hunting for you. There’s not much. I looked at it myself. Sheriff Halstead wasn’t quite the law enforcement man Sam is. I worked for Halstead for two years before Sam came. What a world of difference.”

“What happened to Halstead?” Jo asked. Maybe she could tackle the man after seeing Sam.

“He died a couple of years ago—heart attack. That’s what got Sam appointed to the job. Then he won the election last year. Otherwise I expect the good ol’ boy network would have kept the man in office forever. Oops, the line is free, which means Sam’s off the phone,” Marjorie said. She rose and went to the door near her desk, knocked and stuck her head in.

A second later she pushed it open and gestured to Jo.

For a second, walking into Sam’s office felt like walking into the past—only nothing looked the same. The walls had been painted off-white, and there were citations and awards and photos on the long wall. The windows had wooden blinds, which added a touch of class to the government-issue decoration.

Sam had an old oak desk, scarred and aged. It suited the office and the man.

“Jo,” he said, rising.

“Hi.” She swallowed hard. She shouldn’t have stormed away from Ruby’s. This was as awkward as it got. She should apologize. Would it make a difference to his looking into things?

“I came to make that statement. And ask if I could see the file.”

He looked at her for such a long time she was sure he was going to refuse. Then he nodded and asked Marjorie to get it. Gesturing to the chair across the desk from his, he indicated she sit.

Jo did, her knees feeling wobbly. “Thank you. Do you want me to type up a report? I’m good at that. Or I can just tell you what happened that night.”

He sat and leaned back in his chair. “I’d appreciate not having to write it up myself. You can use the computer in Marjorie’s area.”

She smiled. No one she knew liked writing reports.

“I hope you write reports better than Halstead did. There’s nothing to go on in his. Just some mention of wild accusations from a teenager, no follow-up with either Maddie or anyone else. And he never mentions other possibilities.”

“So Maddie didn’t get into trouble? I heard Halstead say they would take away her foster license.”

“Maybe they did, but I don’t have any information on it. As far as I know she never had other foster children after you girls were sent away. Yet she’s part of this new home for unwed pregnant teens, and I haven’t heard a hint of anyone opposing her involvement.”

“Suspicious, don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “Southern towns have loyalties to home-grown people.”

“I was born here,” Jo said, refuting his claim.

Sam set her up at the extra computer in the outer office. It took Jo longer to write the report than she’d expected. She could see every moment, and to write it all down took time. When she was finished, Marjorie printed it out and took it in to Sam. Jo followed and sat in the visitor’s chair.

She waited in silence while he read. She fidgeted a little, feeling nervous and unsettled. She looked at Sam, found his gaze on her and looked away, feeling butterflies in her stomach. How long would it take for him to read the darn thing?

The moments ticked by. The air seemed to be seeping from the room. Licking dry lips, she glanced back. He had put down the pages and was studying her.

“Stop,” she said.

“Sorry, do I make you nervous?”

“Great technique, but I’m not one of your suspects.” And the butterflies had nothing to do with the cop, more with the man.

He gave a half smile. “But you’d have me believe Allen McLennon is a suspect.”

“He is. The only one.”

Jo was relieved when Marjorie arrived with the pitifully thin folder. Sam pointed to Jo, and Marjorie handed it to her. “Let me know if you need something else, Sheriff,” the woman said before leaving. She closed the door.

Jo opened the folder and began to read. A few minutes later, she leafed through the file. “No photos, no lab report, nothing about the charges I made against Alan McLennon,” she murmured. “That alone should point to sloppy work, if not downright criminal conspiracy.”

“One way to look at it. But if you examine other files, you’d find the same kind of reports. And this from the man they elected sheriff for five terms,” Sam said.

Jo tossed it on his desk. “Well, thanks for letting me see it.”

“I don’t like the situation any more than you do,” Sam said. “If we work together, maybe we can find a way to bring out the truth, no matter what it is.”

“No matter what it is? You think it’s someone else? That I’m making this up?”

“I prefer to deal in facts.”

She thought about it. “I still like the idea of a full-page newspaper ad,” she said.

“If McLennon beat you, you want something to nail him, not just embarrass him,” Sam said.

Jo nodded. “You’re right. There has to be something.”

Sam shrugged. “I haven’t heard a word of gossip to support Allen’s guilt. What I have heard is that one of your schoolmates was the most likely suspect.”

Jo had every moment of that time engraved in her mind. She eyed her report on his desk, hoping Sam would find something in the report that would give him a lead.

“Who?”

“Josiah Heller.”

She smiled wryly. “Ironically, he’s the reason I’m back, not the reason I left. I’ve heard many people think he’s the one who attacked me. But it was Heller who told me about Maddie’s stroke, and that brought me back. I was hoping it would make a difference.”

“What?”

“Her stroke. I had some notion that maybe she’d see things differently, somehow see the truth. But she can’t even talk. And her reaction when she saw me was less than welcoming.” Jo shivered at the memory.

“Would Eliza or April have any information?”

“I doubt it. They wouldn’t have been quiet when being taken away from the only home we knew. If nothing came out then, they probably knew nothing. We can ask.” She gestured to the folder on the desk. “This stinks, Sheriff. And anyone with half a brain could see how shoddy the work is. Deliberately covering up for someone, as I see it.”

Sam didn’t respond.

“I’m telling the others tonight,” Jo said.

“I’ll come by.”

“Come at seven and I’ll reveal all to them.” Jo stood, rubbing her palms on her black pants. “And thanks. Sorry about earlier.”

He stood. “I want justice,” he said. “A good policeman does.”

After twelve years, Jo wasn’t sure it was possible. Any help she’d hoped for from the past had been shot down by the skimpy report filed at the time.

She still wanted to spend time with Maddie. To clear the air before telling everyone else the sordid tale. Even if she still refused to believe her, Jo had to try.

The older woman was in bed, eyes closed, when Jo peered around the door. She must have made some noise because Maddie opened her eyes and half smiled when she saw Jo.

Wondering if she was dreaming, Jo stepped inside. “All right to visit?” she asked.

Maddie nodded, raising her left hand in supplication.

Jo walked to the bed and sat gingerly on the edge. Maddie looked so small and frail lying there. Her head showed a fresh scar near her temple. Her hair was thin, white, wispy. Jo swallowed hard. Now that she was here, she wasn’t sure how to say what she wanted. She decided she’d just blurt it out. Good a way as any.

“I’m telling April and Eliza the full story tonight,” she said.

Maddie didn’t move. It seemed as if she held her breath.

“I went to the bank. McLennon is president now. The son of a bitch should be in jail. Instead he has a prestigious job and is doing who knows what. You should have believed me, Maddie. I never meant to interfere with your chance at happiness. But he hurt me badly. And I got no support from the one person I thought I could count on. You. But that doesn’t excuse what I did. I lied initially, out of anger at you. I’m sorry. And more sorry that when I told the truth to the sheriff, he wouldn’t believe me. No one did. I’m sorry if I got you into trouble. And I’m sorry as hell that Eliza and April got shunted away like I did.”

“Nnnnoooo,” Maddie uttered.

“I wanted to let you know that I’m telling the others. Actually, I already told the new sheriff. I don’t think he believes me any more than you did, but he covers it better. Doesn’t matter, I know the truth, and I’m going to do my best to expose it to the world. I should have come back sooner.”

Maddie nodded, her expression sad.

“I hope he wasn’t the love of your life. I heard he dumped you after my accusations. I think you’re better off. He’s scum. I don’t know if he’s abusing any other girls. It could be that I was an isolated incident.”

Maddie looked distressed again. She shook her head. Her eyes were wide with emotion.

“Anyway, I thought it only fair to warn you. I expect Eliza and April will have some questions.” Jo took a deep breath, looking at the woman who had been the only mother she’d ever really had—until that fateful day. April had shared a lot of fond memories last night, many of which Jo had forgotten. It had been a good experience, one that made up for the overwhelming, indelible imprint of that last encounter.

Maddie had been strict, but she’d had three wild girls to care for. All had railed against their fate that had put them into foster care, and Maddie had taken the brunt of their anger. Yet she’d been loving, helpful, supportive. She’d been the one to come to school events, not Jo’s mother. Maddie had stayed up with her when she’d had a miserable bout of flu. Her mother had been in jail that time.

But the facts were as they were. Maddie was not her mother, and when Jo had needed her most, Maddie had let her down.

The grip on Jo’s hand tightened. If she hadn’t known Maddie was recovering from a serious stroke, she’d have thought the woman had been in strength-training, so painful was the hold.

Jo eased her hand out of Maddie’s, patting the back of her hand.

“I said I was sorry earlier. I wanted you to know I meant it. I should never have retaliated like that. I had no idea of the ramifications. I know a lot more about the law now, though, and have to say the investigation Sheriff Halstead did was lousy. I suspect he was in league with McLennon.”

Maddie nodded, reaching out again to touch Jo. “Bbbaaaa,” she tried. A sound almost like a kitten made, but Jo couldn’t understand.

“I’d better be going.”

Maddie shook her head frantically.

Jo looked around the hospital room. The woman was probably going stir-crazy confined here. She could stay a little longer.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded and changed the subject.

“I’ve done all right for myself, Maddie,” she began. “I wanted to make something of my life, not end up like my mother. So I went for an education. It took me a little longer than most to realize the value. I didn’t graduate from high school until I was almost twenty, but made up for it in college. I have a degree in criminology. I’m good at my job. Did Eliza or April tell you I work for the Los Angeles Police Department? Once I made detective, I opted for Vice, to curtail as much drug traffic as I can. My team and I are good at what we do and have caught a bunch of dealers.”

Maddie nodded, her gaze never wavering. She reclaimed Jo’s hand with her left one, as if anchoring Jo in the room. She said something, but Jo couldn’t understand it.

“Say again?”

Maddie struggled, but the sounds didn’t make sense.

“I’m not too good at this,” Jo said.

Maddie squeezed her hand and shook her head.

Jo studied their linked hands. Her own hand was tanned and strong, Maddie’s frail and birdlike. Would she recover completely as Eliza swore? Or was this the beginning of a gradual decline ending in death?

Jo looked up at her face again. “While I’m here, I’m going to do my best to set the record straight for everyone.”

Maddie took a deep breath, then nodded.

“I’m sorry things ended the way they did,” Jo said, tears gathering. Her heart was sore and the regrets spilled out.

Jo spent an hour with Maddie, telling her about her job in Los Angeles, how she’d ended up there, glossing over some of the experiences she’d had that would shock the gentle Maddie.

She longed to ask her about April being her granddaughter, and about Maddie’s own daughter. Jo knew from April that both she and Maddie were happy to have the truth known. Not many people outside the family knew—Cade and Jack and Sam only—but April wanted the world to know. Maddie had not objected. The question now was how to release the information to cause the least amount of gossip.

Jo rather thought it should be handled while Maddie was semi-isolated in the hospital, so it would be old news by the time she was out and about again. But that call was April’s and Maddie’s.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.